You've Got a Friend
by MrsLJG5
Summary: Ellie doesn't fit into the NCIS fold and is a target for the probationary hi-jinks. She finds a friend, a kindred spirit in the observant, wise Suzanne McNamara. The story discusses friendship and establishing friendships, the importance of friendships. Chapter 5 added 6/16/15. Thanks for the feedback and the follows!
1. Chapter 1

Eleanor Bishop was visibly upset, wondering if she made the right move—leaving the NSA for NCIS. Quirkiness worked at the former. It clashed with her 'Life is not a popularity contest,' mantra. During troubling times and instances, her methods, beyond the traditional, were overlooked. At NCIS, she just wanted to blend into the cohesive unit, to be accepted by peers. Instead, she continually clashed with colleagues and became the whisper and hearty laughter of others.

Her name was no longer Eleanor, even Bishop. It was "Probie—probationary agent." The title echoed through her mind. She saw a grinning, torturous Tim McGee, giving orders, basking in the moment where he enjoyed the 'good-natured' NCIS orientation. Gibbs bypassed her names, calling her Probie as well. The tears welled in her eyes, as Ellie held her anxieties inward. It was a twisted, parallel universe where Anthony DiNozzo assumed the tormentor role; instead, he was an advocate, the reasonable one.

"I'm going downstairs for coffee. Excuse me." Ellie arrived to the "bottom"—Bottoms Up Café, to grab a cup of coffee, perhaps something sweet.

"So many choices…" she mumbled, looking through the dessert tray. Ellie spilled the cup.

"Just great…" She muttered and groaned in frustration. Ellie stopped for a moment. An unexpected hand joined in the cleanup.

"You know, my nickname for you is Southfork-from the TV show, Dallas? Miss Ellie? Eleanor Ewing Farnsworth? The Mama?" Ellie stood there, quiet instead of talkative, and confused with the classic TV reference.

Enter Suzanne McNamara.

"Honey, I give everyone nicknames. I chose Miss Ellie, because you sure as hell got a soap opera going on upstairs!" Suzanne chuckled.

"I'm sorry about the mess."

"It's okay."

Suzanne was an agent's best friend at NCIS. One of the unspoken but understood rules was to get along with the person who feeds you-Rule 23b. She worked in the cafeteria, or craft services, for several years and always offered beverages and made-to-order sandwiches for the employees at peak and off-peak hours. Suzanne was also the welcome wagon of the team, knowing everyone's name, preferences, and a little personal information just from listening and observing.

"I'm Suzanne, by the way. You must be Ellie Bishop."

She nodded.

Suzanne McNamara's name was spoken before on the NCIS floor. Tim called her a 'Goddess' while Tony referred to the twenty-something as an 'exotic fish'—lively but sometimes cold. She was seldom seen. She was easy to recognize—tall, dark-complexion, and darker, mysterious eyes behind bifocal glasses. Her work uniform—polyester pants, denim shirt—did little to stir attention. Ellie noticed at work once or twice, couldn't make of her overall personality. Suzanne's responses were often two ways: soft—

_"Would you like some more?" She would smile and pour that Southern charm for others, refilling coffees._

Or she was to-the-point.

_"I don't like you!" _

That was her usual response to Tony DiNozzo.

_"Susie, let's go to a movie." Tony suggested. "They're having a Spike Lee festival at the Atlas."_

_"Why can't we see John Ford, or Kurosawa? Howard Hawks?" While Tony stood speechless, Suzanne delivered a zinger._

_"And I told you my name is Suzanne. Clown!" She rolled the cart back to the service elevator. _

Generally, the people described Suzanne as a very nice person.

"I just brewed tea for Dr. Mallard and prepared a sweet tray of scones, cookies, not that they deserve any of it…" Suzanne said. "Not the way they've been dogging you…"

Ellie's sigh was heavy.

"Listen, let me get this while you sip the Brodie's Tea and have a scone." Suzanne pulled a small cloth from her apron, dabbed and wiped the surface. "Sit down for a while, just relax."

Suzanne carried a phone in her apron pocket. She pulled out the cordless phone, punched in Gibbs' extension and explained the nature of the call.

"Don't worry about Gibbs; I'll tell him you're downstairs." Suzanne assured.

"Hey, Ellie: use the China cups, if you don't mind. There's something magical about using actual china cups…"

"You trust me?" Ellie laughed quietly.

Suzanne nodded, chuckled at the response as she watched Ellie prepare the setting, listening to the gentle clanging of the saucer and cup.

"Hi. It's Suzanne down in the bottom… Ms. Bishop is keeping me company." It was her personal way of informing Gibbs the whereabouts of his employee.

"I'm doing set up and we're having a little girl-talk…we'll arrive shortly."

"Thanks, Suz." Gibbs replied.

"I'm glad you're here. I'm closing the downstairs area and setting up stations." She shared, pulling the gate, twisting the locks. "You can keep me company while I do set up."

"I can help you." Ellie offered.

"I got this. Just relax." Suzanne smiled. An appropriate tune for the afternoon, _You've Got a Friend_ started.

With Ellie sipping her tea and easing back, Suzanne continued her chores inside the cafeteria. Slowly, she relaxed and listened to the background music.

"I've been doing setups and breakdowns alone 5 years now…I can do this in my sleep…." She moved quickly with the portable floor sweeper.

"I didn't know about the 'Bottom' until today." Ellie continued preparing the tea.

"The best kept secret around...Everything's homemade." Suzanne chimed, reaching for the remote to adjust the music volume. "The best part…you can relax." She hummed along with the singing, washing tables and rearranging the place settings.

Suzanne poured her heart into the singing. Her head swayed, eyes closed…

Suzanne sat down, closed her eyes and shook her head. "It's been a James Taylor type of day." She exhaled noisily, opened her eyes and faced Ellie. Suzanne smiled and repeated the lyric for reassurance.

"It seems like you need one today, one of those days where nothing seems to go right." Suzanne said. Ellie nodded in agreement.

"This is delicious tea." Ellie clasped the cup. "Much better than the coffee…"

"It's a Scottish tea—decaffeinated—still has a little punch. It lifts your spirit." Suzanne offered to pour, while Ellie held a hand, signaling only a small amount.

"What's going on?"

"Suzanne, I don't belong here." Ellie sighed. "I don't fit with the organization."

"Why would you want to fit? Sitting on the floor, papers spread all around, recalling details without notice…Honey, that's your personality, your niche at NCIS." Suzanne continued, finishing the thorough wipe down.

"Listen, _Ellie_, you belong here just like than anyone else." Suzanne concluded. "Don't let anyone else say different. Okay?"

Suzanne turned to find Ellie nodding, smiling.

"Do you mind me asking what your niche is, other than good coffee and pastries?"

"Mine?" She emitted a guttural laugh, pushing the elevator button. "I'm just an overpaid barista."

"I think you're more than that."

"Maybe." Suzanne nodded in agreement, counting money and matching to daily receipts. "But, I have some talents, many I don't easily disclose. You need to stick around to see what they are, Miss Ellie." Suzanne pushed the cart inside the elevator, grunted slightly.

"Who knows? Maybe the two of us could solve problems of the world in a 30 minute break."

Suzanne continued bopping around the building, double-checking the equipment and supplies. She flashed the lights, tapped Ellie on the shoulder.

"Time's up, Sister. We're going to the Penthouse-MTAC. Then, I'm going to class." Suzanne directed Ellie to the service elevator.

"Feeling better?" Suzanne asked.

"Thank you, Suzanne."

"I told you. Drinking from fine china will do that." Suzanne smiled. She snapped her fingers, quickly darted out of the elevator into the office.

"You know, I am constantly reminded by Gibbs…" Suzanne grabbed her backpack, jumped beside Ellie. _"Rule 5: You don't waste good." _Suzanne quoted, patting her bag. "He's been encouraging me with this school nonsense."

"You know the rules?"

"Sweetie, I know**_ everything _**that goes on at NCIS." Suzanne grinned. "I won't always be your friendly, neighborhood coffee girl."

The elevator chimed and door closed.


	2. Friendship

"Where's Jethro…?" Suzanne began. "I mean, where's Gibbs?"

"Still in Stillwater. Said he wanted to be alone." Ellie answered.

Those who knew Jethro Gibbs agreed he said little, allowed anyone to know more than needed. It surprised Suzanne McNamara to learn from Ellie Bishop that the elder Gibbs passed away. _I'd thought he would mention it, Suzanne muttered. _

"Not going to happen." Suzanne answered firmly.

She was insistent, determined to see her friend, Jethro Gibbs. Suzanne drove to Stillwater over the weekend. She knew from personal experience the loss of a parent, particularly a father. Emotional pleadings to 'be left alone' were the very times companionship was needed. Suzanne's father died suddenly over the summer. Like Gibbs, she received the news through a phone call, just said she needed to go back to Williamsburg. When she was at the parish, it was Gibbs who sat at the memorial service, walked with her and talked with her afterwards.

She cried the entire way, thinking of her friend.

She met Jackson Gibbs years ago when she first began at NCIS' crafting service. It was a memorable meeting, where she chuckled in its' details. Suzanne worked during the Christmas holiday. The plan was to earn enough overtime and holiday pay in lieu to visit Williamsburg after the New Year. Jackson came to visit Jethro, became bored watching his son work and rambled downstairs to the café for coffee. During shift change, Suzanne stocked the freezer and refrigerator. She walked inside the dining area after several minutes away from the alarms. She saw only a silvery crew cut buried in the newspaper.

"Agent Gibbs, would like more coffee?" Suzanne asked while wiping the tables.

"Hello, Darlin'."

Suzanne smiled, laughed awkwardly.

"Oh, I am so sorry, Sir! For a second, I thought you were an agent at NCIS!" She continued with the explanation, walking with the carafe. "He usually comes in, grabs a cup of coffee and reads the newspaper…" She studied the gentleman once again, stopped and chuckled. "Like you!"

"You must be Suzanne, the new employee." Jackson began, folded his paper. "My son has said wonderful things about you." Jackson smiled. "Jethro doesn't say much, unless you make an impression."

"Well, I appreciate the kind words." Suzanne poured the coffee, smiling and glancing down in modesty. "I'm surprised he even knows my name!"

"You know, he is right: you are charming, friendly and have a beautiful smile." Jackson said. "I believe 'memorable' was the word Jethro used to describe you. Can't say I blame him." Moments passed. Jackson watched Suzanne do side work, enjoying the hot beverage. His blue eyes sparkled.

"What are you doing around here at Christmastime, kid?"

"Last hired, first to do holiday rotation…." Suzanne sighed, wiping the tables. "I'm giving up Christmas and New Year so my colleagues can spend time with their kids."

"What about your family?" Jackson asked.

"I'm going home next week for two weeks." Suzanne grabbed her coffee cup and joined the gentleman at the table. "Besides, Christmas is not my thing. Easter is the one holiday I want to be at home." Suzanne smiled as she shared more details about her preference for the spring holiday.

"Every year, my mother bought me a dress and bonnet for Easter." Suzanne traced the rim of her coffee cup, sipped carefully, and savored its taste before continuing her train of thought. She smiled, reminiscing her younger days. "I always believed that the season was about renewal—commitment to the Word of God, remembrance for the miracles we have on Earth."

The friendship was genuine. Suzanne shared more with Jackson Gibbs than his own son, a person she saw on a daily basis! They talked a lot—various things from military to gardening. The two remained in touch through letters and an occasional phone call without Jethro's immediate notice.

Jackson regularly mailed monetary gifts to the employee, concerned she worked too much. He insisted that Suzanne use the money for tuition and books. Attached was always a reminder:

_"Kid—you've got to stop and enjoy the scenery." Sincerely, Jack._

Suzanne never cashed the checks. Instead, she'd send it back with a thank you card.

_"Appreciate your concern, Sir, but I cannot accept it. '_Nothing ever comes to one that is worth having, except as a result of hard work.' _Booker T. Washington._

Jackson viewed the girl as a suitable romantic match for his son. He tried to convince Jethro to start a relationship.

"Suzanne's off for the next two weeks." Jethro answered his dad's question while downstairs. "She went back to Williamsburg to see her family."

"It wouldn't hurt if you took the girl out to dinner once in a while." Jack suggested after a second visit to Washington.

"Who, Suz?" Jethro laughed.

"Yes, Susie."

"That girl's something else." He commented. "She's been at NCIS almost 5 years, Son, and you've never talked to her?"

Jethro thought for a brief second a possibility of romancing the girl, one who met Jack's approval. Jackson Gibbs liked Suzanne.

"Suz's always busy…I'm always working…" Jethro answered with a chuckle. "You know she's attending law school, always working…I'm not sure _if_ she's interested."

"All you have to do is ask, Son."

The last gift Jack sent was one Suzanne she could not easily return. While going through old belongings, he found a hand-sewn quilt made by Jethro's mother, Ann. Well worn, a bit faded, and unraveling, the lavender scent after 40 years remained, which immediately made him think of Suzanne. He remembered the Peace Corps stories Suzanne shared about the quilting circle, how she learned to sew in the Guatemalan village. Their last correspondence, she received days ago with a heart-felt note.

_Susie, _

_Ann and I received this at the beginning of our marriage. It symbolizes an unbreakable love and warmth between couples. May you experience an unbreakable love for the ages with this quilt. _

_Now, I know you're wondering why I speak of love. As I went through some belongings and stumbled across the quilt, it is only fitting that you, young woman, have my son's attention! Your name was mentioned during our Sunday telephone calls, Jethro mentioning how you smelled sweet like lavender. Ann wore lavender as did Shannon. It is a message from God—He has a way with direction! _

_We wanted a daughter, but God saw fit to keep our son an only child. If we'd been blessed with a girl, I'd want her to have your ambition, compassion, courage and enthusiasm. I worry, just like your father, that you are too focused on the goal. It is why I've advised you to stop and enjoy the scenery. _

_ I know how close you are to finishing the program. I am proud of you, Susie. You and Jethro are both professionally driven but romantically cautious. _

_ You're hiding behind your textbooks. Suzanne, open your heart and experience romance. You need a distraction; so does Jethro. The Good Book discusses equally and unequally yoked relationships between men and women; you and my son are equally yoked. _

_You are the answer, the very solution to ease his heartbreak throughout life. If I can state a case for Jethro, I think he is your true "Michael," the one man you'll grow old, have children and embrace everything enchanting, infuriating and mysterious about you. You will become an important part of Jethro's life, whether platonic or romantic. We can make a case that the same love and warmth are shared in friendship and marriage. Just think about it, Darlin'. _

_I love you, Susie, and I thank you for your friendship._

_With love, Jackson. _

The drive was exhausting; a rollercoaster of emotions flooded her thoughts. Tears streamed down her face, remembering with fondness her friend: the charming, flirtatious Jackson Gibbs. She appeared on the doorstep.

"Suz…" Gibbs was surprised.

"Hi. I thought you needed some company." Suzanne brought groceries into the living area. "And I'm not taking no for an answer!"

"Suz…" Gibbs sighed. She ignored the tone, walked into the home and into the kitchen. Within minutes, she was using the oven and stove, baking and cooking.

She adjusted the sunshade, allowing little pieces of light inside. Suzanne also opened the kitchen window. The gentle breeze served as a diffuser, the baking waffled throughout the house. From Jackson's letters, she had a general know-how where he kept certain items. Suzanne prepared and moved about like her own home. Gibbs resigned to the fact Suzanne was not going anywhere. He sat quietly at the table, looked out the window. She glanced over the shoulder and noticed his inattention. Suzanne continued unpacking food, even brewing coffee.

She slipped on a cooking apron, the one with teapots that slipped over the head with ties accentuating her waist.

"I recognize that apron…"

"Jack bought this for me." Suzanne said. "He sent it to me as a Christmas present, said every Southern woman needed a good-looking apron for cooking."

She stroked the base of Gibbs' head, her hand resting on his neck.

"Hey, you need to eat something." She suggested.

"I'm not hungry, Suz."

"You need to recharge those batteries." Again, Suzanne ignored. She walked to and from the table, handing him dishes of various comfort foods.

"My parents used to say that." Gibbs chuckled, smiled.

"Now if you don't like this…" Suzanne commented. "I'll whip up something else." She returned to the kitchen corner and quietly sipped her coffee.

"When did you learn to cook?" Gibbs asked.

"I started cooking the family dinner once I started high school." Suzanne walked to the table, refilled Gibbs' coffee cup. "I was the first one home, so it made sense…" She sat across from Gibbs, watched him finally eat some food. "Anyway, I watched my Nana Mac cook when I was little. I picked it up from her."

"Nana Mac?" Gibbs repeated.

Suzanne picked at her meal, eating very slowly. It was her habit—dawdling at mealtime. After cooking, she had little appetite. Part of it was medication-related; Suzanne was diagnosed with hypothyroidism years ago in college. The medication curbed her eating habits.

"Grandma Denise McNamara—part of my namesake." Suzanne replied. "I was named after a Lou Reed song…"

_"I Love You, Suzanne?"_

"That's the one." Suzanne replied. "Mom and Daddy named us three all with an S and a D. Their names were Susan Davidson and Solomon Daniel. Anyhow, Nana Mac's name was Denise. Grandma D was my mom's mom—Grandma Sarah Davidson."

She retrieved the dirty dishware to wash. Suzanne returned to the kitchen sink, washed the dishes and cleared the countertop.

"Thanks for the food, Susie."

"Jackson called me Susie." She smiled, briefly glancing over her shoulder. "He was the only person, other than my family that I allowed to call me Susie."

"I didn't know…" Gibbs paused. "I found your letters, the returned checks…Dad thought the world of you." Gibbs said.

"I enjoyed his company." Suzanne replied. "Jackson was a second Daddy to me. I thought the world of him also, told him I loved him too."

Both awkwardly chuckled, a reaction to the depth of the conversation.

"Ask you a question?" Gibbs began. "How did you…?"

"What really helped was keeping busy." Suzanne whispered. "That's how I took up painting as a hobby." Judging by Gibbs' wrinkled brow, a further explanation was offered on the question, how to move on from the death of a parent. "Jack bought me studio time, something I could not easily return…"

She became quiet.

"Peace comes when you've given everything freely and unconditionally." Suzanne answered. "When I moved to Washington, I made it a point to call, say I love you to my parents. When you're the youngest, you think of that one phone call. That's when Daddy died, it hurt…but not so much." Suzanne sighed, fiddled with her watch.

"Well, Solomon McNamara left Earth knowing how his daughter _loved _him and how much he loved me." She smiled, nodded.

"I wondered how you remained so strong after your dad's death." Gibbs explained.

Suzanne paused, nodded. Her voice trembled. "It's not easy, as we both know." Suzanne added. "You talk a good talk, walk a good walk…but it's faith in above that helps." She removed her apron, folding it carefully and placing it in her bag.

"Friendships help too….your work family. That's why I drove here…figured you wanted to…maybe talk." Suzanne pulled a DVD—_To Have and Have Not_—from her backpack. Gibbs chuckled. She popped popcorn, carried it into the living room. Suzanne reached for Gibbs' hand, squeezed it gently.

"Jackson knew…how much you loved him, okay?" Her reassuring tone and expressive eyes eased him. Gibbs needed the company, he realized. He didn't want Suzanne to leave.

"You can stay the night, sleep upstairs …" Gibbs suggested.

It took only moments for her to change. "I'm fine downstairs. Besides, I usually sack out on the couch." She explained, the door was cracked slightly to continue a conversation. "My TV is downstairs; I fall asleep watching ZNN or Sox News." Suzanne returned, wearing old sweat clothes and her flowing brown hair in a ponytail.

Suzanne and Gibbs sat on the couch, covered themselves with a well-worn quilt. He reached for the desk lamp, flipping it off.

"Tony suggested the flick, by the way." She smiled. "I don't watch a lot of classic movies."

"Well, maybe…I can take you to the Atlas to see one." Gibbs suggested. "After dinner?"

"Maybe." She chuckled.

"Thanks." Gibbs whispered. "Thank you for coming to see me."

Not known for affection, Gibbs surprised even Suzanne by embracing her, kissing her hair.

"Hey, what are friends for, Gibbs?" Suzanne responded in a soft chuckle and smile.


	3. Comfort

**Author's Note (April, 2015): Thank you to a new reader who inspired me to add a new chapter regarding 'friendship.' It is important to incorporate the premise that both Jethro Gibbs and the new character, Suzanne McNamara, do not easily trust and, in many regards, alike in personality and emotional backgrounds. In a number of written stories, Suzanne and Gibbs become a couple. Primarily, they have a friendship. The following segment leads to a deep bond in their friendship and a segue into a possible romantic relationship. **

* * *

><p>Leroy Jethro Gibbs found comfort in Suzanne McNamara's genuine Southern personality and appreciated that quality in a woman. Another personality trait, yet disturbing to some but understandable in his world, was dark and destructive underneath that angelic smile.<p>

Since the cafeteria made remarkable changes in its staffing and menu, he frequented the "Bottoms Up Café" for coffee than the local chain. Besides, he took an instant liking to the fresh-faced graduate student/employee: Suzanne, whom he called Suz. _Sunshine Suzanne_. Her bright disposition and infectious smile jump-started his day on a positive note. The frequent visits for coffee refills and lunch orders were added bonuses to the job. The changes occurred two years ago, and everyone embraced the idea of ala carte service during business hours.

A true investigator, Gibbs noticed the changes in her outward appearance, mainly her personality. Suzanne's struggles became more apparent. It was more than school that occupied her mind. The classes—she openly discussed the anxiety. _"Regulatory Practicum is kicking my ass!" _ Eventually, the fear subsided. When asked, she'd smile, remarked _"A- on the paper. Got dinged for an APA mistake." _ It was an even tone of relief.

The new fear, the anger was outward and uncontrollable, terrifying disruptive. The fits of rage worried the even-keeled Special Agent in Charge when he observed the decline first hand.

* * *

><p>Her sunny smile was dark. The high speaking voice was two octaves deeper, flat than the usual greeting. What concerned Jethro Gibbs the most not just the missing smile but the tears that flowed slightly underneath her glasses. She refused to look at others in the eyes. Instead, she glanced the other direction.<p>

"You okay?"

"I have been fighting these allergies…" She dabbled the sides. "Please excuse me. They've been giving me such a problem." She politely excused herself and found additional side work to perform—replenishing salt and pepper shakers, refilling sweeteners in the small containers on the tables.

"Hey, Suz…" Gibbs said. He invited her to the Diner after work for dinner. "My treat."

"Can't. I have class. 6 to 9."

"Maybe this weekend? If you're free?" Gibbs suggested.

"I have a paper due Tuesday." She continued cleaning the tables. "Thanks anyway."

* * *

><p>Gibbs couldn't sleep. Suzanne was on his mind. He looked up her address and decided for an impromptu visit.<p>

"Who is it?" Instantly, he recognized the sign of a loading shotgun.

"Suz, it's Gibbs." He answered boldly. "Look through your peephole and put up your shotgun."

She followed Gibbs' orders as he requested. Slowly, he heard the deadbolts unfasten and Suzanne opened her front door. He was disturbed to see Suzanne in ratty, oversized sweat clothing. Her glasses were off, the dark circles evident around her eyes. He glanced in the living area, noticing the modest surroundings of only a couch and a relatively new TV, a standard wood table with two chairs.

"May I come inside?"

Suzanne nodded, opened the door wider to allow him inside. Quickly, she closed and locked the door.

"A Shotgun?"

"What are you doing here?"

"You didn't answer my question." Gibbs said. "You have a shotgun?"

"Protection. I live by myself in DC; shoot first, ask questions later." Suzanne answered. "Don't worry, I have permits."

"Permits? Plural?"

"Three. I have two handguns." Suzanne secured her shotgun in its rightful location. "Now, it's your turn. Why are you here?"

"I've been meaning to visit, since you closed on the house."

"Don't lie to me, Gibbs." Suzanne replied. "I moved here over a year ago."

Gibbs motioned for Suzanne to sit beside him on the couch.

"You keep some things close to your chest. I respect that, **but** I am worried about you."

"Gibbs, I'm just working a lot, stressing a little about the summer internship…" Suzanne closed her eyes, waved her hands, avoiding eye contact.

"Pretending…that something's not bothering you, eating away at you…" Suzanne briefly looked away as a tear fell from her cheek. "Anger, shame, and hurt…tempting to end that cycle of pain you're feeling?" Their eyes met at the very moment.

Suzanne's eyes flowed and a hard cry came from her throat. All Gibbs could do was gather her into his arms. Her body quivered.

"God, Suzanne…really, it's that bad?!" Softly, he croaked in her ear, encouraging her to let go of the pain in the tears. A considerable amount of time passed where the room was quiet. Suzanne softly cried, Gibbs held her closer and tighter. The embraces, he realized, was not the norm. Their closeness was not work-related or qualified as a father-figure. The inner struggle they shared in common.

"What I can I do, Gibbs?" Suzanne whispered. "This will ruin me."

"This is ruining you now." Gibbs responded, gently tilting her chin upward. "Believe me, I know."

Gibbs' immediate suggestion: change of venue.

"Take a shower, get dressed and come ride out with me today." Soon, he opened the blinds, allowing sunshine to come inside the dark home. "Come on! It's a beautiful day! Not too cool, not too hot. Maybe we can stop at the nursery and find some perennials to put in your front yard."

"I have an assignment due Tuesday…"

"You'll get it done." Gibbs assured her. He continued with various reasons for being together.

"It is very seldom we're all off to enjoy a weekend."

That was true. Whenever the bullpen had a high priority case to work, generally, she was scheduled to work early mornings and afternoons. After seven weeks of mandatory weekends, everyone had a full weekend off. Suzanne mentioned in passing she wanted extra time to browse local stores for slightly used furniture for the new home.

"I'll be 10 minutes." Suzanne smiled, as she trotted up the stairs.

Jethro Gibbs' natural curiosities led him to investigate the open yet cautious nature of Suzanne McNamara. Questions swirled through his mind in those moments of solitude. _What triggered that moment? _ '_Must be painful_,' he thought.

'_Well, she's giving me her handguns or she's staying at the house…She is too young, too beautiful and too strong to go there! Damn it! Why didn't I see this?!' _


	4. Outside

**Author's Note: Gibbs noticed Suzanne was not typically the chipper and unsinkable "Suzanne" he knows and is determined to know what is going on. The following chapter convinces her to spend an afternoon with him. Note: reference to the Band's song, Evangeline by the Band featuring Emmylou Harris. **

'_How can she afford a house and she works at NCIS and goes to Georgetown? G-Town's not cheap!' _

Gibbs noticed the hardwood flooring-dark, like cocoa bean, beginning in the foyer and ending at the kitchen.

_'Did she do the flooring?! Get out of here!'_

Suzanne returned downstairs, looking and feeling invigorated. Wearing faded boot-cut denims, an oversized Georgetown t-shirt and white hooded jacket with matching blue and white sneakers, she and Special Agent Gibbs left the premises moments later in his reliable pickup truck. Her eyes closed as the sunlight glowed on her skin, even inside the cab. Gibbs started the truck, immediately turned down the music. During the ride, all Jethro Gibbs' concerns were addressed methodically, logically.

"You certainly shower quickly." He began.

"I have an unbelievably low water bill." Mindful of waste, particularly now as a homeowner, Suzanne shared how she learned to appreciate the small details, including hot water, during her travels. Gibbs chuckled softly. "It is a little higher in the summer, because I love to garden."

"Why Deanwood?" Gibbs turned onto the main road.

"The house was a fixer-upper, not in too bad of shape." Suzanne answered. "I researched, figured wasn't any worse than I fell in love the yard and saw the possibilities." She paused, wondering if she said too much, but continued.

"I see you've put some work into it…you have nice wood floors…"

The past year was spent in renovations—replacing the downstairs carpeting with wood floors, new countertops and repainting the walls. A lot of the renovations Suzanne completed herself.

"I finished the interior about four, five months ago. Daddy came from Williamsburg to help me with the countertops—last thing before he…you know?" Gibbs remembered she was reeling from the loss of her father as well. Still, she threw herself into work, now allowing time to grieve. Suzanne spent a week in Williamsburg, returned the next week back to classes, back to work.

"I mean…why rent when you can buy a house?" He nodded in agreement. "I paid $1500 in rent, extra in renters insurance because I lived in Southeast…for something I didn't own."

"How did you swing it?"

She shared with Gibbs her secret of 'thrift.' Investments in CD's, even a modest $1500 faith loan into a friend's business. Big risk, but it took off. She voluntarily shared that was the down payment for her home.

"The jobs I had in college…I saved my money. When I came back from Guatemala, I received two stipends. I saved those too. That was essentially part of my down payment for the house. All said and done—closed at $100,000 for three beds, two baths for a **real** front and backyard. I did it all by myself; shocked my family."

"That price is ridiculous!" Gibbs said. "You'll make a really nice profit if you decide to sell the place."

Suzanne was academically gifted from a young age. As such, she received scholarships that completely financed her college education.

"So…Georgetown? Is it scholarship based too?"

"90 percent of it." Suzanne replied. "You've probably wondered how I can afford a house, why I work in the kitchen instead of a cubicle...the job pays the tuition."

_Ah, a piece of the puzzle. 'Work for a year, government incentive: tuition assistance. She was accepted into Georgetown a year into service for the government. Not bad, Suz.'_ Gibbs thought.

The two reached their destination: the year round outdoor flea market. It was busy for a Saturday, lots of foot traffic.

"Ever been to a flea market, Suz?" Gibbs quickly left the truck, opened Suzanne's door, smiled. The two walked on the rock-covered trail leading to the front entrance.

"Plenty of 'em back home in Hampton Roads." Suzanne answered. "The best one I went to was in Fayetteville."

"Bragg?" Gibbs chuckled. "Your dad?"

"My brother." Suzanne said. "We met half-way, which happened to be Fayetteville." Gibbs knew of a brother, mentioned the name: Simon.

"Simon's the one who lives in the Silicon Valley—computer engineer." Suzanne clarified. "There are three of us: Solomon or 'JR', Simon and of course, me." Solomon was almost 12 years older, graduated from Rice with an Engineering background, minored in linguistics.

"Announced two weeks after graduation he signed the papers and was headed to Fort Knox for Basic! Dad was pissed!" Suzanne said. "I was 6, 7 years old…I just remembered Dad going off! Dad wanted all of us to get a college degree at the college of our choice and not because of the military. He was adamant about it."

"MOS?"

"Military intelligence. He's into cartography more than lingustics."

"I'm looking for a table to restore for baby Victoria." The two finally entered the premises.

"Anything in particular?"

"Something that she can grow in..." He carefully inspected some of the items. "Age appropriate—about 2 to 10, 11?"

Suzanne nodded. "As she grows, something of a center piece, hold tea parties, store books, small items? Night light?"

"I'm enjoying your company." Gibbs smiled, looked at Suzanne. "You're telling me about your brothers—JR and Simon?" He encouraged to share more. "We don't get a lot of time to just…talk."

Music played in the background. It was a song Gibbs hummed along, said part of the lyrics.

_Bayou Sam, from South Louisian'  
>Had gambling in his veins<br>Evangeline, from the Maritimes  
>Was slowly goin' insane.<em>

It surprised Gibbs when Suzanne sang along to the song softly as she joined Gibbs looking at a table, possibly one suitable for the project he had in mind.

_High on the top of Hickory Hill  
>She stands in the lightnin' and thunder<br>Down on the river the boat was a-sinkin'  
>She watched that queen go under<em>

Evangeline, Evangeline  
>Curses the soul of the Mississippi Queen<br>That pulled her man away.

"This is a beautiful table, made with mahogany materials." Suzanne commented, carefully inspecting the craftsmanship, the wood and its durability. She glanced at the price tag—significantly higher than the value of the wood itself.

"It's perfect for Victoria." Gibbs said. "A few touches…"

"Take a look at the chairs in the corner too…" Suzanne suggested. "I'll ask how much for the set."

In Spanish, Suzanne questioned as to why the material was hybrid.

"Este es un híbrido. A quién estás tomando el pelo? 250 dólares?" "Senorita…" "Él es un agente federal…" Suzanne whispered. Gibbs, oblivious to the conversation, her rapid Spanish conversation like a native, continued looking around. "Madera ilegal ... la selva . Vergonzoso."

"setenta y cinco ..."

"y las sillas?"

"Ciento?" "One hundred." Gibbs joined Suzanne at the register with the two gentlemen. "They were just saying they've had it for a while and wanted just $125 for the table and the four chairs."

All were satisfied with the deal. The salesmen were thankful Suzanne did not alert Gibbs about the international implications of rainforest materials on American soil. Gibbs had the table and chairs for Victoria's projects.

"You knew it was a hybrid table, right?" Gibbs smiled. "That's what you said to those men in Spanish."

Suzanne nodded.

"This is a combination of both Latin American and North American Mahogany." She turned the table on its side, showing Gibbs the slight difference in color variation. "Slash and burn deforestation in Latin American rainforests. It abuses the wood; see? American Mahogany is richer in color."

She continued sharing with Gibbs the family dynamic. The McNamara family: all with SDM initials. Her parents were Solomon Daniel and Susan Eleanor Davidson. They were Appalachian folks, mainly the McNamara side of the family in Kentucky. Dad graduated from Fisk in Nashville—all ROTC; Mom attended the University on a full academic scholarship—'pretty much stubbornly, cunningly _integrated_ Kentucky's School of Education.' Suzanne grinned.

"I see where you get your balance, not to mention your temper...I've met people from Appalachia; good people—direct, to the point."

"Wise wig—What you see is what you get." Suzanne chuckled.

"December 19, 1968. They met after a church fellowship, exchanged numbers and addresses…wrote and corresponded at school."

"They got married in 197-?"

"December 12, 1970 at the Justice of the Peace. Dad graduated in June; he proposed, because he got drafted."

"About your family…?"

"Oh…" Suzanne continued. "Mom finished Kentucky, graduated by the time he came back stateside, taught at the local high school. His orders were for Fort Hood. JR—Solomon David, born December29, 1972. Dad was there three, four years…got assigned at DLI in Monterey."

"Language institute?"

"Daddy was an intelligence analyst." Suzanne said. "High aptitude, good ear for dialects and languages. They wanted him to learn Chinese, Korean, which he did. He became an analyst for Asian diplomacy."

"Simon?"

Suzanne nodded. "1977—September. Simon Davidson. Typical Californian. He spent the majority of his life in Monterey, except the two years in Fort Knox and our 22 months in Shafer."

Gibbs walked into the next store, gently wrapping his arm around Suzanne.

"So I guess you were a surprise…6 year gap between you and Simon?"

"I was born a week after my parents' anniversary—December 19th." Suzanne smiled. "Daddy said he always wanted a daughter."

"So you are Suzanne…?"

"Suzanne. Simon named me Suzanne, after a classmate. Denise is my Nan's—grandmother-name."

"You're a beautiful girl, Suzanne." With the right dash of sunlight, her medium brown hair was a reddish tint. She blushed slightly, smiled and climbed into the truck.

"It's a shame the day's coming to an end." Suzanne commented during their ride back.

"Doesn't have to." Gibbs suggested to have dinner—his treat. "I grill a good ribeye steak."

"I'm okay." Suzanne said.

"I insist." Gibbs said. In his mind, he was going to learn as to why she had so many weapons, given at her state. It worried him. "Besides, I want your opinion on helping me with the design for this table."


	5. Dinner

**Author's Notes: The last chapter had Gibbs and Suzanne spending the day together, with the two learning about one another outside work. The last thoughts will be italicized and separated to segue into the next chapter. The upcoming: Gibbs invited Suzanne for dinner. The unexpected happened. Special notation and credit to the following artists and songs used for background scenery and context in preparation for the scene. Simple Minds: **_Once Upon a Time_** (Once Upon a Time-1985); **_Tramp _**and **_These Arms of Mine_** by Otis Redding (The Best of Otis Redding). There is also a reference to Samuel Taylor Coleridge as well-**_Christabel_** and **_Kubla Khan_**. **

* * *

><p>"<em>It's a shame the day's coming to an end." Suzanne commented during their ride back.<em>

_"Doesn't have to." Gibbs suggested to have dinner—his treat. "I grill a good rib eye steak."_

_"I insist." Gibbs said. "Besides, I want your opinion on helping me with the design for this table." Running out of excuses to keep her outside the home. In his mind, he was going to learn as to why she had so many weapons, given at her state. It worried him. The last thing he wanted to do was leave Suzanne alone._

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Gibbs lit his fireplace and grabbed his ingredients for dinner. A few were privy to dinner at Jethro Gibbs'. Few knew of Suzanne McNamara's talents outside work hours. The Senior Agent recently learned of her artistic talent and car restoration in passing. Tony DiNozzo's innocent comment-'See Suz about the buffing...' almost cost him his job, courtesy of Gibbs. Timothy McGee complained about the recent paint job on his car.<p>

'Boss, Suzanne sometimes works on cars at a shop in SW...' DiNozzo replied, Gibbs' hand around his neck. 'She fills in for a buddy when he needs a third hand...'

Suzanne designed an intricate table for the Children's Hospital of Washington Auction, the highlighted piece for the auction. The design received press attention and a huge bid on behalf of the organization.

Suzanne managed to find a piece of paper, started doodling possible designs for Baby Victoria's table.

"You're having a good time, right?"

"Yes." She smiled, nodded. "I'm having a good time."

"Good. Then we can have dinner, maybe watch a movie on the television afterwards? Go for ice cream?" Gibbs noticed her attention to detail in sketching and designing. A smile crossed her face as she worked; Gibbs cooked dinner from the fireplace.

"I have a paper to write. Remember?"

"You always so focused?"

"Have been since…birth, I guess." Suzanne shared with Gibbs a belief system, deeply instilled and followed. "All about discipline and your life goals. _There's a time for work and a time for play—sayeth Sol McNamara the elder_."

"You can write that paper in a few hours…" Gibbs grinned as he cooked the steaks in the fireplace. He sat beside Suzanne momentarily, watching her sketch. "I recall the time you wrote that paper for your policy class on the paper plates?"

"I wrote the _outline_ on paper plates…" Suzanne clarified. "It took me about three, four hours to type the paper." She chuckled at the memory, continuing her focus on the design for baby Victoria. "The paper plate paper was for the law school portion."

"What made you study law?"

"I'm more interested in public affairs and policy, doing what's right for people. Nan talked me into taking the LSAT after I came home. I got accepted into two places: Marshall-Wythe and Georgetown." Suzanne said. She paused, sighed and eased her head to rest momentarily.

"I'm a better writer than a statistician…" Suzanne briefly explained what could correlate with ordinary stress pushing her to the edge.

"I've done better in the law school than the policy program! When I started, it was a summer session and I took courses out of sequence. Georgetown has a competitive MPP program and law school, so it's a joint program—4 years and two degrees, if you're a full-time student. Now, I'm fulfilling a lot of basic requirements in macroeconomics and statistics—regression and advanced regression/evaluation in my last year for the Public Policy, **but** I am graduating in May: two degrees, 15 semesters-115 credits!" Suzanne smiled with pride.

"I just wish…" Suzanne trailed off. "Well, it doesn't mean anything to me anymore." Suzanne resumed to detailing the paper. "Daddy's dead. Mom…she's traveling all over the country, education talks, you know? Nan…she's probably the only reason I'm still in the program."

"Rare?"

"If it's all the same, Wild Man…" Suzanne cracked a small smile, finally looking upward. "May I please have it Medium rare?"

"Rare, it is…" He pulled a plate beside him, playfully preparing to serve.

"Where is she? Nana…?"

"I call her Nan. She lives in Bell." Suzanne watched Gibbs cook the food. "Appalachian foothill—Kentucky, Virginia, and Tennessee. I drive that jeep into the mountains once a month to see her."

"When was the last time you saw your grandma?"

"Last month." Suzanne replied. "Drove out and spent the weekend." She laughed, thinking about the comments. "She fed me, said I don't eat enough!"

"She's just worried about her granddaughter…"

"I know…" Suzanne smiled. "I worry about her too. 92 years old—I want her to come live with me in the house. I want her to move in with me. She's refused—twice. Okay…then, I'll drive five hours back and forth to Appalachia every month."

"Just as stubborn as your namesake…" Gibbs said.

After another half-hour of silence she took a break, taking in the simple and humble surroundings. _'Typical Gibbs…'_ Suzanne concluded. He gave sound advice, too, concerning the past.

_'__The past provides a roadway for your future—good, bad or indifferent. Each experience from your past prepares you for the present and the future." _

"You want to talk about earlier?"

"You have quite a variety of books…" She noticed a book of works from Coleridge. _"Christabel?"_ Gibbs knew very well what Suzanne was doing, changing the subject.

"I read." Gibbs said. "Christabel—Christ the Beautiful-Coleridge. I also like '_In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree: Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea..'_ "

"I know you do." Suzanne replied. "You're very well-versed. It's why I enjoy talking with you and Ducky."

He smiled. "Medium rare." It was surprising to Suzanne that Gibbs could cook an actual balanced meal. The steaks grilled. He wrapped corn cobbles in aluminum foil, salted and buttered as the steaks grilled. The steamer of asparagus filled the air.

"Thanks for dinner, Gibbs." Suzanne finished her healthy plate of food. "Now if you ever see Nan, please tell her I eat."

"Thanks for coming up with some ideas." Gibbs glanced at the preliminary ideas. He nodded in pleasure.

"Thinking mosaic?"

"Either mosaic or perhaps a Mayan scene…" Gibbs nodded at both possibilities. She explained the child-proof technique for carefully creating mosaics.

Suzanne volunteered to help with clean up, but Gibbs insisted to relax and 'make yourself at home.'

"We'll go for ice cream in a while." He suggested.

"I'm watching my weight."

"Don't need to." He peeped out of the door, his eyes rolled upward, downward. "You're looking good, McNamara." Gibbs grinned.

She walked around, noticed a stereo with several tapes and CD's in the corner. Naturally, she flipped through the selections.

"Simple Minds, Gibbs?" Suzanne flipped the tape cover. "JR had this…used to play it." She continued looking through the various selections, chuckled. "He had almost all of these tapes and CD's…"

"Belonged to my first wife."

"Oh, God." Suzanne immediately set the tape back, stepped away. "I didn't mean to…"

"Go ahead and play something." He encouraged. "Haven't heard them in a while."

The title track to the album—simple title—_Once Upon a Time_. The song began.

"Forgot how good the album sounded…" Gibbs said.

Moderate level, Suzanne hummed as the singer crooned.

_And you  
>Yes you speak to me tonight<br>And you say so, say so  
>That once upon a time<em>  
><em>When love, love was a white dove<br>And hope, long live hope, could spin the whole world 'round_

When Suzanne sang, her voice was sweet yet deep. It was a genuine alto-tenor, complimented the heavy-laden 80's synthesizer sound.

"Susie, do me a favor?" Gibbs softly called.

_I'm talking east to west  
>I'm talking lost and found<br>Get up to the mountain top  
>I'm going to drop unto the ground<br>That's once upon a time_

Immediately, she stopped the song.

"Just…it reminded me of when I first got married." Gibbs smiled. "Shannon…Kelly, liked that song."

"I…" Suzanne caught herself just in time, preparing to break a well-known Gibbs rule: never saying sorry as a sign of weakness. "We don't have to listen to music."

Gibbs walked over, pulled a tape out and popped it into the machine. "See if you know this one…" He walked away for a moment. She waited for the song.

**_Tramp! _**

_What you call me? _

**_Tramp. _**

_You didn't! _

**_You don't wear continental clothes, or Stetson hats. _**

_Well I tell you one dog-gone thing. It makes me feel good to know one thing. I know I'm a lover. _

**_Matter of opinion. _**

_That's all right, Mama was. Papa too._

Suzanne laughed, singing and dancing along to the song. Of course, she was familiar with Otis Redding! Gibbs rejoined her in the living room. Joyful. Gibbs thought. He found himself dancing along with her, smiling and chuckling. The two lip-synced the dialogue. Of course, some words were added.

**You know what, Gibbs? **

_What? _

**You're country. **

_That's all right. _

**You straight from Pennsylvania woods**.

_That's good. _

**"****You know what? You wear overalls, and big old brogan shoes, and you need a haircut, Tramp…**"

_"__Haircut? Woman, you foolin'...ooh..."_

Suzanne's long fingers playfully rubbed in his silver hair. His hand made his way around her waist somehow. For the first time, their eyes met and neither turned away. They flirted with each other, silently wondering if they shared similar moods. Gibbs often complimented her mind, her looks, and especially her smile. His confidence and control of a situation intrigued her. Gibbs was 'really easy on the eyes' she softly commented. Suzanne closed her eyes and quickly kissed Gibbs. She shyly glanced down, smiled and felt slightly embarrassed. The song continued playing in the background.

"Gibbs…" she backed away quickly. Her breathing quickened. Her voice quivered.

"I…I better go. I'll catch the Metros back to the house…"

"Wait…" He whispered. Gibbs' hand rested in the small of Suzanne's back, feeling the slight tremble.

"Do you always need your glasses?" He slipped them into his pocket and looked into her eyes.

_I'm a lover_.

_Mama was. Papa too. _

_I tell you one thing. _

**Well tell me. **

_I'm the only son-of-a-gun this side of the Sun._

Slowly, Gibbs moved in closer, both heads tilting slightly. Suzanne's eyes fluttered briefly, adjusting to the lower light.

"You have beautiful eyes…"

The two kissed fully. Compared to the first, the second was more involved and welcomed. The act was personal. It allowed another into a personal space, insinuating a personal, intimate connection. Gibbs pulled Suzanne closer into his arms. Shorter kisses traveled from her lips, the bridge of her nose and ending at the top of her forehead.

"Is this a dream?" Suzanne whispered.

Gibbs rested his forehead against hers, smiling. Their days of wondering were over. Gibbs and Suzanne finally kissed.

"No, Suzanne. It's not a dream." His calloused thumb gently stroked her cheek. By instinct, she retreated back. Again, his smile reassured the feeling was, indeed, mutual.

The tape continued. They danced along to a soundtrack that seemed to describe their interest in one another.

_These arms of mine they are lonely  
>Lonely and feeling blue, these arms of mine<br>They are yearning, yearning from wanting you_

"Are you lonely?" Gibbs whispered, clearing her face from the singular braid in her eye. He wanted an answer from earlier events.

"Sometimes…" She rested her head on his shoulder. "Nan's in Kentucky; my brothers are across the country. Mom's traveling…Guess I'd like someone to check on me once in a while."

_And if you would let them hold you  
>Oh, how grateful I will be<em>

"I've been on my own for so long, but Daddy always called me on Sundays and Wednesdays…" Suzanne continued. "He'd call at 4 Wednesday mornings on my way to work and 11 pm to ask about my day."

"You'll never be lonely, ever again…" Gibbs whispered.

_These arms of mine they are burning_

_Burning from wanting you, these arms of mine_

_They are wanting, wanting to hold you_

_And if you would let them hold you_

_Oh, how grateful I will be_

"I've heard that before." She chuckled.

"Hey…" Gibbs tilted her chin with a single finger. "I mean that, Suzanne."


	6. Courtship

**Author's Note: Thanks to all who appreciated "Suzanne's and Jethro's" shyness. I thought I'd add a nice little ending to it all. I'd like to think of this story, You've Got a Friend, as the start of Gibbs and Suzanne's relationship with one another. Of course, I'd like to point out some notations used in the story as references/scenery. Antoine 'Fats' Domino, _I Want to Walk You Home. _** **Also, Suzanne reads from the Bible, the Book of Job, Chapter 8. **

* * *

><p>Reluctantly, Gibbs drove Suzanne back to her Deanwood home. The GW Parkway was a much more romantic view than the interstate; slower too. Besides, an extra 20 minutes included his wrapped arm against her shoulder and Classic 50's music playing in the background. Still he worried about her safety but not as much as he did earlier in the day. Suzanne smiled, chuckled when he showed a softer side. As he pulled the pickup into the driveway, engine running, "A perfect song," Gibbs laughed, "to end our day."<p>

_I want to walk you home_

_Please let me walk you home_

"I had a great time with you, Suzanne." He smiled. Gibbs walked her to her front door. The song continued to play from his radio.

"I'll call you tomorrow, okay?" Suzanne nodded in agreement.

_I love the way you walk_

_I love to hear you talk_

_I love the way you walk_

_I love to hear you talk_

_I'm not trying to be smart_

_I'm not trying to break your heart_

_But if I ask you for a date_

_Will you tell me that I'm not too late?_

A moment passed before Suzanne responded.

"Thank you for…today, Gibbs." Suzanne chuckled, fumbling through her purse for her house keys. She glanced upward, kissed him gently on the cheek and embraced him. "Thank you."

"Sweet dreams, Susie." Gibbs whispered in her ear.

* * *

><p>Suzanne's demeanor was definitely better than 24 hours earlier. Freshly showered and casually dressed in denim jeans and an oxford shirt, she read her newspaper and sipped a fresh cup of coffee. 11:15, she noted. Church was 12:30 and she planned to attend. A good 20 minute drive to campus. 'Better leave around noon; might have to park off campus…'<p>

She heard a knock at the door. Perhaps Mrs. Dockery, the next-door neighbor wanting to know about that pickup in my front yard 11:30 at night. Nosy, maybe; the elderly woman kept an eye out on the neighborhood, particularly when it came to 'that McNamara girl next door. She don't keep foolishness going on.' From her peephole, she could see a bouquet of carnations.

"I read it's customary to deliver flowers…" Jethro smiled. "It's been a long time since I used proper dating etiquette."

"Good Morning." Suzanne chuckled, stepped aside and allowed him inside the home.

"These are for you." Gibbs handed Suzanne the flowers. "Did I catch you at a bad time?"

"Actually, no….and thank you for the flowers." Suzanne walked into the kitchen, placed the flowers on the window aisle. "I was on my way to church. You're more than welcome to join me."

"What is the topic for the week?"

Suzanne chuckled. "New beginnings." Her well-worn Bible, post-it notes inside the binding sat beside her coffee mug. "From Job 8…" Gibbs sat quietly, listening as Suzanne continued reading the passage.

_Church?_ He didn't do church…not on a regular basis. His faith, tested many times, stopped and rested. Gibbs questioned and relentlessly searched for peace. It was a constant struggle—religious faith and Gibbs. He truly believed in God but was hurt. From her lips, she sowed a seed of comfort.

"This is the passage that moved me—verses 6-10: '_if you are so honest and pure,__then God will come and help you __and restore your household as your reward._ _All the wealth you lost will be nothing __compared with what God will give you then Ask the former generation and find out what their ancestors learned, for we were born only yesterday and know nothing, and our days on earth are but a shadow..__'" _

"All the stuff I've been through…" she began. "It's just preparation for the blessings that I **have. ** Our knowledge comes from the old, learning from the old, having respect for our elders. The elders carved a road, and from that road, I am carving a new beginning…"

* * *

><p>Gibbs appreciated the church service and found it similar to the format on a military base. It was multicultural and nondenominational in message.<p>

"Oh…this is my cue. Pardon me, please."

At the very end of service the Chaplain performed the intimate, intricate of the Holy Communion Rite of the Catholic Church. Gibbs watched quietly as Suzanne participated in the ceremony. Moments passed. Suzanne, on bended knee, prayed and signed the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

She joined Gibbs outside the church.

"I did not know…"

"Cradle Catholic." Suzanne chuckled. "Daddy was Catholic; Mom's Methodist. Guess who had to go to Catholic school when they got to the 9th grade?"

"Did you like it?"

"You're a transfer from California moving to Southeastern VA, entering the 9th grade, and **12 years old…"** Suzanne sighed. Gibbs interrupted, questioned the age.

"I skipped first and fourth grades…my birthday's in December. I was 12 years old when I started the 9th grade and 16 when I graduated from high school. I didn't have my driver's license until my second semester in college!"

"I guess you never had an easy time adjusting at school…"

"School wise, I was a threat to my classmates. Socially, I didn't really fit in, not until my junior year. My parents put me in Catholic school for an education after Simon graduated from high school and started at Stanford. Mom received a job offer: Instructional Supervisor for Regional Education Programs. Dad just finished 27 years and got orders." Suzanne continued. "Dad planned for 30; Mom's contract was a minimum three year, so we were going **back** to Virginia—regardless. I just didn't know we were going three hours from D.C…Dad got stationed at Ft. Monroe."

"I never would've known…"

"I don't talk about it much…" Suzanne said. "Some people try to treat you differently, and that's not really my scene."

Again, they reached Suzanne's doorstep.

"I'd like to see you again, Suzanne." Gibbs suggested.

"I'd like that, Gibbs." She smiled.

"I'll call you." It was Jethro who kissed her gently on the cheek and embraced her.

"Okay."


End file.
